What has your basketball journey been like from Australia to the United States?
Although this narrative less concerns the boy Bedient than the man as he approaches twice seventeen, the action is worthy of account, beyond the riches that it brought, because it seems to draw him into somewhat clearer vision from the shadows of a very strange boyhood.
April,the Truxton, of which Andrew was cook, found herself becalmed in the China Sea, midway between Manila and Hong Kong, her nose to the North. She was a smart clipper of sixty tons burden, with a slightly uptilted stern, and as clever a line forward as a pleasure yacht.
She was English, comparatively new, and, properly used by the weather, was as swift and sprightly of service as an affectionate woman. The little Captain was fastidious in dress, wearing soft shirts of white silk, fine duck trousers and scented silk handkerchiefs, which he carried in his left hand with the meerschaum-bowl.
The Carreras perfume, mingled with fresh tobacco, was never burdensome, and unlike any other. To it was due the really remarkable polish of the perfect clays so regularly cushioned in his palm. Invariably, too, he brought with him an unfolded handkerchief upon which he placed, at the farther end of the table when the weather was fair and in the socket of the fruit-bowl when the weather-frames were ona ready-filled pipe.
This he took to hand when coffee was brought. His voice was seldom raised. He found great difficulty in expressing himself, except upon affairs of the ship; yet, queerly enough, there were times when he seemed deeply eager to say the things which came of his endless silences.
Either brought on a nervous tension which left him shaken and drained. The right woman would have adored Captain Carreras, and doubtless would have called forth from his breast a love of heroic dimension; but she would have been forced to do the winning; to speak and take the initiative in all but the giving of happiness.
Temperate for a bachelor, clean throughout, charmingly innocent of the world, and a splendid seaman. To one of fine sensibilities, there was something about the person of Captain Carreras of softly glowing warmth, and rarely tender.
Page 2 Bedient had been with him as cook for over a year, during which the Truxton had swung down to Australia and New South Wales, and called at half the Asiatic and insular ports from Vladivostok to Bombay. Since he was a little chap back of which were the New York memories, vague, but strange and persistentthere had always been some ship for Bedient, but the Truxton was by far the happiest It was from the Truxton just a few months before that he had gone ashore day after day for a fortnight at Adelaide; and a wee woman five years older, and a cycle wiser, had invariably been waiting with new mysteries in her house Then the Captain had a box of books, the marvel of which cannot begin to be described.
This was his book of fairies, his Aesop; his book of wanderings and story, of character and mystery; his revelations, the source of his ideality, the great expander of limitations; his book of love and adventure and war; the book unjudgable and the bed-rock of all literary judgment.
He knew the Bible as only one can who has played with it as a child; as only one can who has found it alone available, when an insatiable love of print has swept across the young mind.
Nothing could change him now; this was his book of Fate. Except for those vision-times in the big city, Andrew could not remember when he had not read the Bible, nor did he remember learning to read. It was his first great exaltation, and there was a sacredness about it which kept him from telling anybody And now all the structures of the great Scripture were tenoned in his brain; so that he knew the frame of every part, but the inner meanings of more and more marvellous dimension seemed inexhaustible.
It was filled with mutiny, murder, storm, open-boat cannibalism and agonies of thirst, handspike and cutlass inhumanities. No shark, pirate nor man-killing whale had been missed; no ghastly wreck, derelict nor horrifying phantom of the sea had escaped the nameless, furious compiler.
One reading had burned out his entire interest. It was not Life nor Death nor Ocean, as he had seen them in ten solid years at sea. So he turned for unguent to his Book of Books. There were few confidences between them, but a fine unspoken regard, pleasing and permanent like the Carreras perfume.
The two mates and boatswain, who also messed aft, bolted without speech, but marvelled between meals. And once after a first supper at sea out of Singapore there had been a green salad, a fish baked whole, a cut of ham with new potatoes, and a peach-preserve tartthe Captain put down his napkin and coffee-cup, drank a liqueur, reached for his pipe and handkerchief, and suddenly encountering the eyes of Andrew, who lit a flare for him, jerked up decisively, as one encountering a crisis.
His face became hectic, and the desperate sentence he uttered was almost lost in the frantic clearing of his throat: Coughing alarmingly in the first fragrant cloud from his Latakia and Virginia leaf, the Captain beat forth to recover himself on deck. For the past thirty-six hours, she might as well have been sunk in pitch, for any progress she made Bedient had finished clearing away tiffin things, and stepped on deck.
The planking was like the galley-range he had left, and the fresh white paint of the three boats raised in blisters. Captain Carreras appeared on deck through the companion-way still farther aft and nodded to Bedient. Then both men looked at the sky, which was brassy above, but thickening in the North.Nov 25, · A long way gone compare and contrast essay conclusion.
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